


Kentucky Fresh Out of Chicken

by ixiepixie



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [10]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, USUKUS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 12:10:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14284644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ixiepixie/pseuds/ixiepixie
Summary: England just wants his greasy American chicken, please give it to him.





	Kentucky Fresh Out of Chicken

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by an anon on tumblr to do a fic about that whole KF*C crisis where they didn't have any chicken lmao

“What do you mean ‘OUT OF CHICKEN’? Isn’t that in your bloody name!??”

Arthur Kirkland, also known as England by a select few, shouted at the poor manager of a local KF*C. He would have kept shouting along with the mob of angry and upset customers, had it not been for his husband and fellow nation, Alfred. Steering the fuming nation out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk so they could begin their walk home, Al couldn’t help but smile at the pout on Arthur’s lips. He just wanted to kiss it away, but that was likely to earn him a smack for PDA.

Minutes passed by, and eventually Arthur let out a frustrated sigh. That meant it was safe for Alfred to hug him, so he quickly wrapped his arms around his miffed lover. “It’s okay babe, we can get a bucket next week when you come to visit me at my place.”

“I was really craving that greasy garbage you lot call food for once, and the singular time I have you around when I want your food, they don’t even have the main ingredient? Madness!” 

Arthur ranted, “How do you mess up a shipment so badly that you don’t have enough chicken for a restaurant chain that mainly serves chicken!?”

Alfred laughed and rubbed Arthur’s back soothingly with one hand, just the way he knew he liked it. “I dunno man, that’s one heck of a manifesto error, but cut them some slack. Yelling at one manager isn’t gonna get you any food, yanno?”

Groaning, face flushed with embarrassment, Arthur buried his head in Alfred’s warm bomber jacket, enjoying the smell and feel of the old leather. “I must have looked a right arse... perhaps I could apologize if see them again.”

“That’s the way, now come on, we can always grab Mc D’s instead!”

“I am not eating that garbage. I may lower myself to the standards of KF*C or even A*by’s, but I am not eating those heart attacks on buns.”

“I know you like them, I saw you eating one at a meeting~”

Arthur sputtered and smacked Alfred’s chest as he laughed. “It was the only thing close by that was fast and cheap!”

“Whatever you say, Artie.”


End file.
